


The silence that haunts me

by dreamerbydawn



Series: Silent Dean verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: And things you didn't know about it, Canon Compliant, Dean Centric, Gen, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Signing, Use of sign language, Well John's thoughts on Dean more like, Winchester family dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbydawn/pseuds/dreamerbydawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester could take the battering of any storm, the silence that followed though? Not so much, the devastation that the it wrought always managed to knock him down. </p>
<p> In other words, he could survive the angry screams of his youngest, but broke like a twig under the silence of his first born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The silence that haunts me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of my Silent Dean Verse! And I personally like to think it's canon that Dean prefers to not use his words, simply because they are not his first preferred mode of communication.

Most people talk about the calm before the storm, not many speak of the horrifying silence that follows it.

As a man that hunts monsters for a living, it wouldn't be a stretch to say John Winchester was a man that would stand his ground no matter the force of the on coming storm. It's how he was built, to weather the strong winds and the beating rain and deafening thunder; the flash of lightning only ever showing the silhouette of a man still standing, still impossibly on his feet. 

And so he always stood tall, remaining on his feet through every accusation Sam flung his way, through all the questions and protests, through all the fury and even through the endless screaming matches he shared with the boy. Sam Winchester was every raging storm the heavens had decided to rain down, knit together into a single being. 

But Dean? Dean was the silence that followed. Dean was the devastation that no one wanted to face, the wreckage that would haunt you all your life. 

Yes, John Winchester could take the battering of any storm, the silence that followed though? Not so much, the silence after was what always knocked him down and put him on his knees. He could survive the angry screams of his youngest, but broke like a twig under the silence of his first born. 

To be honest though, John hadn't realized that first time - when, after a particularly loud fight with Mary where he had stormed out and later come home to wide green eyes of his three year old hesitantly standing in the middle of the living room, staring at him - that Dean had picked his battle suit already. He had simply felt guilty for having scared his son to the point where he didn't approach and had made amends as quickly as he could.

In fact, he didn't remember that incident till much, much later, didn't quite connect the dots. 

When Mary died and Dean refused to speak, he had felt the cold bleed into the fire that burned in his nightmares. He knew that even as familiar as he was with the effects of trauma, that this was different, because he could feel Dean slip away. He missed the bright eyed child with his radiant smile and soft words as much as he missed his wife. 

It's why he refused to accept it. Refused to allow the child that disconnected from him so entirely to remain that way. He may not be able to force Dean to speak, but he could damn well teach him to communicate. So, even with the many new monsters he learned of in the aftermath of the fire, he also learned the use of sign language and became as proficient at it, as he did at hunting.

Dean discovered his ability to speak again around the same time Sammy began discovering words, and John had cried in relief as the long painful silence of the Winchester household finally broke. He had found hope again in Dean's initially shaky voice, praying to anyone that might be listening that he never had to endure such haunting silence in his life again. Anything but that. 

For the most part, the prayer seemed to have been answered. 

He saw Dean construct his facade carefully, the smart ass comebacks, the dirty inappropriate jokes, the confidence and the cockiness and the devil may care attitude all sitting pretty on his shoulders. It didn't always fool Sammy or Bobby, but John didn't think either of them ever felt their skin crawl at the act, not the way his did; because they didn't understand. 

They didn't know that a loud Dean Winchester was the single most disconcerting thing John could imagine. That was like a vegetarian wendigo or a werewolf that turned on a moonless night. No, Dean was a child of silence and anything else was just wrong. 

That much had been reconfirmed to him after the shtriga incident when Dean had refused to speak again. John had apologized, told him he had been terrified of Sammy being hurt, but he doubted his words got through to his son. 

See, you can't put the wreckage from a storm together again, not really. You can rebuild the old or build something new, but never can it be precisely what it was before. And it was no different with Dean. Even when he finally began using his words again, John's gratefulness was marred with knowledge that another piece of his boy was forever chipped away. 

From then, he always watched more closely. Where he hadn't allowed himself to be terrified of Dean's silences over short periods of time, they now became a compass, always guiding him when he strayed too far. Every two hours without Dean's voice let him know he had done something wrong, that he had failed again, screwed something else up. 

And John became increasingly weary of it. What use was a map to a sailor sailing through the roughest seas? What was the point of knowing which way pointed north when the winds blew the sails off course anyway? Still, he was far from a stupid man and he never let himself lose sight of what mattered. 

In fact, he chased after it. 

Every time Dean chose to stop talking, John would sit in that heavy silence and let his hands speak instead. He would let Dean express himself with flowing movements of sure hands and where words could lie and brush away the truth, gestures never did. 

A single tear would be accompanied by a tremble in otherwise steady hands, exhaustion would add weight to every movement and anger would see a flurry of actions so fast, it was all the father could do to keep up and understand it all. But slowly, the silence too had changed. 

John began to see that lack of words or volume weren't the only forms it took. After all, with Dean, there was more to be said by way of expression than anything else and fear was now reserved for when that too was taken from him and replaced with the initial emptiness that terrified him so much. 

He endured it again of course; That time when Sammy had his first broken bone from a hunt or the time they hadn't been able to stop the family of five from being slaughtered. But they were far and few between and John always recognized those silences even before they fell, usually they came with a flashing neon board that screamed that he fucked up. 

In all honesty, they were also what scared him most. Not that anyone ever knew that. 

How would they? Sam and Bobby saw an obedient soldier, a loyal son and nothing more. That's all anyone ever saw in Dean, mistaking his lack of protests for mindless acceptance. 

They didn't know about the time when his eldest, after Sam had screamed himself hoarse and stormed away, had signed quietly to say 'no dad, not this time' and John had grit his teeth but heeded the words. They didn't know that time when a Dean, bedridden with a severe case of typhoid, had signed 'go dad, i'll be okay' and allowed him to ignore Sam and Bobby's protests and take off on the hunt that would save a school bus full of children. 

They didn't know because Dean was smart like that. He never let anyone see that he called the shots in the family, that no matter how many orders John dictated, they wouldn't be carried out unless Dean permitted them to be.

They didn't know that when Dean took Mary's place, and made the effort to hold their family together, hold Sammy together and hold John together, he had inadvertently taken charge of everything else with the same firm hold she had once held. 

And even a man that withstood the most violent storms fell in line, because Dean's silence always left John isolated in a world he didn't want to be alone in. So truth be told, John Winchester wasn't afraid of much, but he was terrified of the silence that still haunted him. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess John didn't completely fail as a dad here, that's a surprise. Completely unedited story, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> Kudos/ comments are love! xx


End file.
